


Three Hundred Years

by chirichiri



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Mistborn - Brandon Sanderson, SANDERSON Brandon - Works, The Alloy of Law - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Gen, takes place sometime before alloy of law, tensoon's and vin's relationship makes me happy-cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chirichiri/pseuds/chirichiri
Summary: On the anniversary of the Catacendre, TenSoon remembers the greatest Mistborn who ever lived.





	Three Hundred Years

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little fic for Mistborn Day, 3/11! Always remember Vin <3

The mists reminded TenSoon of Vin. Surely they did for many people, those who believed she had merged with the mists and became their guardian. TenSoon didn’t believe that, didn’t believe most of the myths surrounding the Ascendant Warrior or Heir to the Survivor. But he did know Vin. Vin the Mistborn. Vin Venture, wife of Elend. Vin the Empress of the New Empire. Vin the Mother of the kandra. Vin, his friend. And when he wandered the streets of Elendel at night and thought he could see her small, lithe body outlined in the mists, that was the Vin he remembered. The master who had become so much more to him than just another Contract.

He sighed softly, tilting his head to the side as he gazed up at the statue of the Ascendant Warrior, standing guard over her tomb with the Last Emperor by her side. Mist swirled around their metal bodies, giving the illusion of movement, life. TenSoon could almost imagine Vin’s statue shooting off into the night as she burned steel, challenge bright in her eyes when she glanced back at him, lying on the grass in his wolfhound body, daring him to keep up.

Almost three hundred years, and the ache refused to go away. Three centuries, and he still missed her.

TenSoon huffed and got to his paws. Even on the anniversary of the Catacendre, Harmony had work for him. MeLaan wouldn’t let him forget if he were late, and he still needed to find bones suited for the upcoming mission. He shook out his damp fur, stretched, and spared one last glance at the statues.

Three hundred years. He hadn’t been there to witness it, the Final Ascension. Yes he had been there, but following the Resolution, removing his Blessings . . . he hadn’t been there. He never got to see her again, never run with her through the misty streets of Luthadel, never see her smile.

_TenSoon_ , a voice whispered to him. _I’m sorry_.

He shook himself again, ears flopping against his head. “It’s fine,” he growled, trotting away from the statues. “It was three hundred years ago, Harmony.”

Three hundred years.

TenSoon lengthened his stride, still appreciative of these wolfhound bones. He could still remember the day when Vin . . .

_Focus_ , he scolded himself, running faster to leave the Field of Rebirth and all its memories behind. _That was three hundred years ago. You have a new mission today_.

As he ran, he couldn’t help but notice that out the corner of his eye, where mist spun and danced, he thought he could see a short, thin woman run by his side.


End file.
